Slipping Masks
by a.fictional.love
Summary: While the Gaang hides out on Ember Island, injustice and sickness in a nearby town prompt the returns of the Blue Spirit and the Painted Lady. But everyone knows that all masks eventually come off, especially when Zuko and Katara grow closer after the search for Yan Ra. Slightly AU; a rewrite of The Ember Island Players. ZUTARA
1. Prologue

**So this fic originated on one of those dark, dreary, depressing rainy days, the kind when you sit on the couch wrapped in a blanket in front of the tv and remember the disappointing non-zutara ending of A:TLA. Anyway, it was that kind of day, and after watching the strange combination of You've Got Mail (great movie, go see it now) and the Avatar chibi short School-time Shipping, this is what happened. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, the ending would have made more sense because Katara would have ended up with the guy that jumped in front of a lightning bolt for her instead of ending up with the 12/112 year old bald monk. (But, hey, the world isn't perfect.)**

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Prologue

Katara sat on the edge of the dock at Zuko's family's beach house, her legs drawn to her chest, her head resting in the pillow she'd created by folding her arms on her knee caps. She didn't move or make a sound; she just let the tears roll down her cheeks as she looked out at the horizon, feeling the warmth of the setting sun on her face and the calming presence of water.

She wasn't really sure why she was crying. She'd gone and she'd come back, with nothing really happening in between. And yet, everything had changed. She sighed, accepting the fact that sometimes, she just needed to cry. She had let got of her anger, at him, the man who had taken her mother away.

And at Zuko.

Now thinking back, she realized that she'd faced the most hated man in her life with the former holder of that title by her side, supporting her every decision, no matter what it was.

She heard footsteps behind her, padding over the wooden planks of the dock. She hastily wiped away the residue of her tears, annoyed by another's presence. She'd been hoping to spend some time alone. She was in no way interested in Sokka or Aang butting in and interrogating her, then telling her how proud they were that she'd listened to them, because she hadn't. She'd come to the decision to spare that man on her own.

But it was neither of them doing any of those things. Instead, it was Zuko, who said nothing and sat down next her. After a while, she chanced a glance at him. He was looking at the sun, leaning back on his hands. She had a perfect side view of his face, the scarred side. She was suddenly transported back to the crystal catacombs in Ba Sing Se, when she'd touched the smooth, glossy skin and felt a strange connection between herself and the prince that she'd never considered to be remotely possible.

But there was no denying its existence now, especially when he turned his head to look back at her. His bright golden eyes gave her a questioning look. "What?"

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For everything. For following me and respecting my decisions." Zuko bit his lip to keep from smiling in the serious moment. Gratitude - that was good. Then she added, "Unlike Sokka and Aang."

"They were just worried about you," he said, trying to redeem them in her eyes, even though it was only his redemption he truly wanted.

"I know, but you never questioned me, not once."

He shrugged to hide the happiness he was couldn't help but feel. "This was something you needed to do for yourself. However you went about it was up to you. Though I kind of hoped you'd choose not to hurt him."

Katara looked down and let her feet swing, toes skimming the surface of the water. "I couldn't. Despite everything he'd done, I just couldn't hurt him." She sighed. "But I couldn't forgive him either. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him." Zuko put a hand on her shoulder, and even though that very action would have made her flinch away twenty-four hours ago, it was fine now. More than fine now.

"That's okay, Katara," he said. "You deserve to finally be able to put this in the past. But he doesn't deserve your forgiveness."

"You do, though." Looking back up at him, she smiled. He was surprised at first, having not expected to receive that, and he let his hand fall from her shoulder. But he saw the honesty in her clear blue eyes, and he knew he finally had it: her trust. "I forgive you, Zuko."

She watched as his face broke out into a smile, an incandescent beam. She'd never before seen him that sincere or vulnerable or open, and she didn't want that look to ever leave his face. The knowledge that she'd been the cause of it was even more rewarding.

"I'm sorry I never showed how much I appreciated everything you did for us," she continued. "You tried to stop the assassin, you're teaching Aang, you got Suki and my dad out of prison." A blush tinted his cheeks at the praise. "And I never thanked you for saving my life when Azula attacked." She scooted closer to him and placed her head on his shoulder. "So, thank you." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his lips were still turned up.

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**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Day One

**Thanks to anyone who thought chapter two was worth looking at! Chapters will vary in length, but most others are longer than these last two. And by the way, I like to have fun with disclaimers.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, you'd hear me screaming it from the mountain tops. I don't care where you live. You'd hear me.**

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Day 1

Katara tilted her head and observed the Avatar and the Fire Prince. They all knew that wasn't what firebending would be like in an actual battle, but what Aang was learning now were fluid forms and motions. She'd never really thought of firebending as an art, what with all the violence and destruction she'd come to associate it with over the last years of her life.

She watched, equally impressed and surprised by this other Zuko, this graceful one - though she knew him better than most, and could see that underlying ruthlessness and ferocity in his movements as his muscles tensed and relaxed. The difference now, though, was that she wasn't afraid of it anymore.

"Katara?" Toph asked, sensing the sudden and strange beat to her heart. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, a bit confused. "Why?"

Toph frowned, feeling her honesty. "No reason."

Katara raised an eyebrow, though the look was wasted on the blind earthbender. "There's always a reason." Toph only shrugged, but Katara didn't have a chance to pursue the matter.

"Look at this!" Sokka cried jubilantly as he and Suki entered the courtyard. He unfurled the rolled up piece of paper in his hand so they could all see. "We found this poster in town! It's a play about us!"

"The Boy in the Iceberg?" Katara read the title skeptically.

"I know!" her brother practically squealed. "How awesome is it?"

Suki crossed her arms and looked at the water tribe warrior. "Aren't you forgetting something, Sokka?"

"Oh, yeah," he said absentmindedly, appraising the poster again. "There's some sickness in the village just across the water."

Zuko's interest was finally caught. "Mei Shan?"

He nodded, and when he looked at Zuko, he narrowed his eyes. Glancing between the prince and the paper, he grinned stupidly. "Your scar's on the wrong side." He pointed at the poster, biting back laughter. Zuko grimaced as he realized that it was true.

Katara sighed. "No one cares about the play, Sokka. What's happening in the town?" Her brother didn't answer, but was now pointing out to Aang the poster's lack of accuracy in regards to Zuko's face.

She turned to Suki, who explained, "The coal miners are getting sick."

Zuko joined their conversation, glad to be out of the other one. "How sick?"

Suki shrugged, looking upset. "We're not sure, but we heard a few vendors saying how awful it is because it's the air in the mines that's making them sick and they're still being forced to work."

"Being _forced_ to work?" Katara repeated, incredulous. "Why isn't the governor doing anything?"

Zuko scoffed. "Governor Canku would never do anything about it. He's harsh and cruel and doesn't care what happens as long as he gets that coal for exporting. And the head of the guard, Captain Baoli, is just as bad. He abuses his power, and Canku lets him." He folded his arms across his bare chest, biceps flexing. "They're the ones who would be forcing the workers back in."

Katara looked down. "That's terrible." But she was already thinking of the dark purple cloak, wide-brimmed hat, and gauzy veil that she couldn't throw out after her stint at that river town.

"That's them," Zuko replied in a monotone. Thinking about the two men, one appointed by his father, the other by Zhao, he balled his hands into fists, imagining in his mind exactly where he had put his dual swords.

"Right?" Sokka's voice permeated the depressing silence that had settled around the second group. "It'll be fun!" He entered their conversation, along with Aang and Toph. Again, he held up the poster. "So can we go? Please?"

"Not tonight," Katara said. Zuko looked at her curiously, as he had been about to say the same thing.

"Opening night isn't until tomorrow, and they'll be there all week." Sokka pointed to the dates on the poster. "See?"

Zuko frowned as he looked closely at the paper, taking into account his scar and the production company. "Ugh. It's by the Ember Island Players. They're horrible."

Toph nudged him with her fist. "Oh, come on, Sparky. It can't be that bad."

"Yes, it can," he assured her. "And it will."

Sokka refused to be deflated. "But it's about us! How many times will we get to see a play about us? Aang and Toph are in!"

Zuko put his hands up in defeat. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Sokka whirled on his Katara and Suki, waiting for their responses, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. The girls rolled their eyes, but agreed, Suki thinking that it would make her boyfriend happy, Katara thinking that she was definitely going to regret it.

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**Reviews boost my self-esteem! (just saying)**


	3. Night One

**Here's a nice long one. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, I'd have my own Wang Fire facial hair.**

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Night One

The light of the crescent moon sufficiently illuminated the streets Katara walked through. Tilting her head down so the hat and veil of the Painted Lady ensured anonymity, she continued lightly padding down the stone lanes, making no noise at all.

So why did she hear footsteps?

Aware that the soldiers were on duty - she'd already passed by quite a few unseen - she glanced over her shoulder. There were no guards behind her, nor was there anyone or anything else; all she saw was empty alley, but she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She pressed herself against the building to her right, in the shadows, the dark purple cloak keeping her hidden. There, she listened and watched, waiting for that one barely noticeable flicker of movement, that one nearly inaudible rustle.

But it never came, or if it did, she didn't notice. Her attention was instead pulled to the building behind her - a house, now that she looked. She pressed her ear to the stone and heard the ragged, wheezy cough of a sick miner. The miserable sound made her sigh and hang her head, even though she'd been hearing it all night. Though she'd been able to soothe some throats and an occasional choked whisper of, "Thank you," came from those who woke, she knew she would never heal them all. Not tonight, not even after the whole week, because as soon as they were deemed fit by the guard, they would be back in the mines to repeat it all.

She crept around the house, still aware of that uncomfortable watched feeling of vulnerability. But she had a task to accomplish, so she did her best to ignore the goosebumps that ran up her arms despite the heavy cloak. She wasted no time once in the exposed street, silently and deftly opening the door and closing it behind her.

Three heads turned to see the unexpected visitor, who was then greeted by three gasps. On a pallet on the floor of the main room lay a man, relatively young and muscular, but at the moment his skin was pale and his eyes were bloodshot. He attempted to raise himself into a sitting position at Katara's arrival, but he entered a coughing fit.

The woman kneeling beside him, just as tired as her husband, dropped the wet cloth she'd been applying to his forehead back into the jar of water. She then put that arm around his back to support him and used the other to pull the little girl at her side even closer to her.

They continued to stare at her, mouths agape with shock. Surely, by now, they recognized her as the Painted Lady, but they made no movement. "Please," Katara said. "I can help." She waited until she finally received a response, an emphatic nod from the wife, who then moved herself and her daughter aside to make room for Katara.

"Lie down," she instructed the man kindly. He did as she said, his eyes still betraying the astonishment at her presence. Because it was easier to access than that in her skin under the cloak, she took the water from the jar, let it engulf her hands, and placed them above the upper part of his chest, feeling the damage caused by countless days of breathing in the harsh and polluted air of the mines.

The blue light that always accompanied her healing shined brightly, lighting up the house and the man's pain-stricken face. Soon though, while the glow remained, his expression changed to one of relief as Katara cured the infection that had started in his lungs. She then moved her hands up to soothe his aching throat.

By the time she let the water fall back into the jar, she was feeling weak; this man was her seventeenth patient of the night, and the extensive healing the ailment required was starting to become more than she could handle. But it was worth it as the man relaxed onto the pillow, quickly falling asleep now that he finally had back his ability to breathe without pain.

The woman's hand darted out and pressed itself to her husbands face, feeling the heat dissipate and seeing the flush fade. She then clapped the hand over her mouth to keep from crying out loud. "Thank you," she whispered when she could, her voice cracking.

Katara put her hand on the woman's arm and smiled beneath the brim of her hat. "You're -"

The door to the house burst open and slammed into the wall. Katara saw the woman's face, which had been so full of elation a second prior, start to fill with dread. She wrapped both arms around her daughter, and Katara found a new rush of strength from deep within her body as she turned.

A guard stood in the doorway. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice loud and gruff. Behind her, the water from the jar began to rise up. But by the time it had reached her outstretched hand, there was a flash of black, and the soldier was gone from her view, his own yelp of surprise cut off.

Katara remained in the house, standing in a protective stance in front of the family, listening to the vague thumps coming from outside. Then, it grew silent, and a new figure appeared in the doorway.

Black cloth covered a tall and muscled physique, the pants tucked into knee-high boots that were obviously made for stealth and silence. There were bands around his biceps, gray guards on his forearms, and black gloves on his hands. A different shade of darkness wrapped around his waist, and she could just make out two straps criss-crossing on his chest, both reaching from shoulder to opposite waist. The first belonged to a bag that fell at his thigh; the second, a reddish sash, held a sheath to his back. Next to his cheek was the hilt of a sword, and while that did grab her focus for a moment, she was more taken by his face, which was concealed by a mask. It had a blue background, but every feature was white; the eyebrows, the rims of the eyes, the outline of the lips and nose, and the teeth, both the human ones and the monstrously sharp ones at the corners of the mouth.

"The Blue Spirit," the woman whispered. Her daughter let out a terrified whimper.

The mask twitched, and Katara was sure that the spirit had moved his gaze to the little girl, who pressed herself into her mother's side. Katara subtly began to pull the water from the jar, her body blocking it from the spirit's view. Yes, he got rid of the guard, but that didn't mean he was a friend. But she soon let the liquid settle back down again.

The spirit didn't move into the house, but he bowed his head. "I'm sorry if I frightened you." His voice was a hoarse whisper, almost intelligible. He then nodded to Katara, and disappeared into darkness, closing the door behind him.

From the roof of the building across the street, Zuko saw the blue glow come from the house the hatted figure had just entered. The Painted Lady, the river spirit, there to heal the sick miners. He looked down at the bag of medicinal plants he'd gathered earlier that night, wondering if he served any purpose now that she was here.

Maybe he did.

Someone else had seen the glow as well, someone wearing a Fire Nation uniform. The guard walked hurriedly to the house, his hand on his sword. He peered into the window, and obviously saw something he didn't like. Zuko was long gone from his post by the time the soldier busted open the door.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, his loud voice ending any hopes he had of hearing Zuko's approach. In fact, the guard had barely even begun to realize what was happening by the time Zuko had him pinned to the ground, unconscious. He moved the body into the nearby alley, then returned to the doorway of the house.

In front of a woman holding a young child and an ill-looking man on a pallet on the floor was the Painted Lady. Her wide-brimmed hat and the gauzy veil hanging from it prevented him from seeing her face clearly. All he could make out were a few red painted lines on tan skin. A tattered purple cloak almost completely covered her body and rose to act as a hood that she had tucked her hair into. At the center of her chest, though, was a white shell that pulled the cloak from her shoulders. It stopped at her elbows, showing him slender, tan, and red-painted upper arms with gold bands around them.

"The Blue Spirit," the woman behind the Painted Lady murmured breathlessly. Zuko was reminded of how intimidating his appearance could sometimes be, especially when he heard the small child let out a frightened sob.

He looked to the young girl now, overcome with compassion. He tilted his head down, but made no move to enter the house, not without their permission. "I'm sorry if I frightened you." He changed his voice, making it hoarse. Then, after giving a nod to the Painted Lady, he closed the door and continued down the street, blending in with the shadows.

He hoped that simple action conveyed his meaning: they may not be working together, but they were on the same side. He remembered seeing her stance when he stood in the doorway, the stance of one prepared to fight. According to legend, the Painted Lady was a spirit known for her benevolence, and while he had seen the healing blue light emitted from each house he'd followed her to, he was sure there was a violent side to her.

He easily concluded that this was not the actual Painted Lady of Fire Nation lore, just as he wasn't the real Blue Spirit. She was supposed to stay by that river town, Jang Hui, so her presence here made little sense. And, he knew very well, spirits presented themselves only to the enlightened ones. He - and the guard, for that matter - was most certainly _not_ enlightened.

Hence why he was able to see her now, as he crept along the rooftops and she moved stealthily through the darkened parts of the streets. He knew healing wise he wasn't much use, but the least he could do was keep the guards away from her.

She glanced around her once, perhaps as a routine check, but he figured it was more likely that she felt his eyes watching her, as there was no way she was able to hear him. She continued on her way, and entered another small house after pressing her ear to the door.

Zuko crouched on the roof of the house, and watched as the glow shined through the window. He smiled softly as she emerged from within a few minutes later, but his forehead creased when he saw her press one of her hands to her head. She began to walk, but stumbled and just barely held herself up by grabbing at the wall and leaning against it.

Even worse was the sound of multiple pairs of footsteps. He crawled to the other side of the building and counted six guards, one of them being the one he'd knocked unconscious earlier. He grimaced. Even with the element of surprise, he probably couldn't take them all, not all at once, and he didn't know the proximity of the other soldiers on duty. If he jumped in, it could easily become eight on one, and then he'd have no chance.

He returned to the perch with the view of the Painted Lady, who was now walking and pressed up against the wall. But her movements were slow, and she was not sufficiently hidden in the shadows. As the soldiers grew closer to making the turn that would bring them down the same street as she was on, Zuko waited for her to do something. His eyes darted between the two parties, measuring the diminishing distance between them.

There was no way she would have been able to ignore the agonizing coughs coming from the house, but Katara knew she shouldn't have gone inside. She was too tired and the healing had taken too much energy from her. Now, dizzy and needing the wall for support, she could only keep moving and wait until she regained her senses.

That plan, however, wouldn't work very well, not when she started to hear people. The only ones out at this time of night were the guards, and it sounded like there were a lot of them in this particular group. Their footsteps and murmurs echoed in her mind, and though she tried to go faster, she just couldn't; her feet wouldn't follow the commands of her sluggish brain.

And then suddenly, they didn't have to. They didn't have to do anything. They were no longer on the ground. Hands had hooked themselves under her arms and pulled her up. By the time she was seated on the roof of the building she'd been clinging to for support, her brain reminded her to be scared.

But she wasn't, not when she noticed the black clothed arms that were supporting her. She looked up and into the mask of the Blue Spirit, feeling anything but fear.

He noticed that her head was tilted towards him, and though her hat was blocking her eyes, he knew she was looking at him. He brought a finger to his lips to indicate silence and pointed to the guards that were in the street below them, nearing the exact spot she'd been in a moment before.

Zuko waited until the guards had continued the patrol, taking it to the next street, before he lowered himself and the Painted Lady to the ground. "Are you all right?" he asked, adopting the hoarse whisper he'd used earlier.

Katara nodded, but her leg buckled underneath her when she attempted to take a step. Black gloved hands darted out and pulled her up, then stayed on either side of her waist as he steered her down the streets and out of the town.

By the time they'd gone over the first hill and reached the start of the tree line outside of Mei Shan, Katara was able to walk by herself, her mind no longer foggy. The Blue Spirit seemed to sense this as her steps became more confident. "You're all right now?"

"Yes," she said honestly. "Thank you."

He nodded, knowing that this was where they would part ways, as he was going back to Ember Island, and she was going to wherever she was supposed to go. "Here," he added. He pulled the strap of the bag over his head and held it out to her. "Maybe they can be of some help, though you seem capable on your own."

Katara inspected the contents curiously. "Medicines?" He nodded. She'd never seen most of the plants in the bag before. "You know the land well, then?" He nodded once more. "I'll take all the help I can get," she said, smiling beneath the brim of her hat. "Thank you, again."

For the third time, he nodded, and though she couldn't see it, he smiled before he turned and vanished into the forest's darkness.

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**Thoughts? Let me know!**


	4. Day Two

**Thank you everyone for all the feedback so far!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, I'd have my own boomerang. And space sword. And flying bison. And Zuko. And...**

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Day Two

Toph and Sokka were laughing when they came back from town. Suki was shaking her head, but it was obvious that she was amused by what they were talking about.

"What happened to the food?" Aang asked, seeing their empty hands. Only Suki had a bag.

"The what?" Sokka asked, having been in the middle of a bout of laughter.

Zuko's eyebrow arched up. "The food," he said slowly. "You know, the edible stuff we're running out of."

"That you were supposed to get at the market," Katara added, unable to believe her brother didn't get _food_ - he was Sokka. He was all about food.

"I was only able to pick up some sea slug," Suki answered. "Because that's where I happened to be when these two got us kicked out."

"Kicked out?" Katara asked, incredulous. She threw out her hand towards the general direction of the market. "It's a public place! How did you manage to get kicked out of a public place?"

"We really didn't do anything," Toph defended herself. Sokka nodded. "There were a few vendors talking about how patrol at Mei Shan has been tightened because a guard got beat up last night, and we thought it was funny because they were describing the huge purple welt on the side of his face."

Suki rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, today, that guard was on duty at the market."

"He didn't think it was so funny, did he?" Zuko asked. He was annoyed by the stricter security, but he hid a smile because he knew how the guard got that bruise. Katara bit her lip; she knew too.

"No, he didn't. And that's why he kicked us out," Sokka explained. "He said it was because we were disturbing the peace with our boisterous guffaws." He used his hands to make air quotes.

Toph tossed her hand. "He was just upset and everyone knew it."

"Um, whether they knew it or not, all we have for dinner is sea slug," Aang moaned, looking into the bag Suki was holding. He turned to Katara. "Do we even have anything to cook sea slug with?"

Zuko scratched the back of his head. "We may have some pots and pans in the attic. I'll go look." As he walked away, he allowed himself a smile.

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"Zuko?" Katara called into the attic. He'd disappeared to go find the cooking equipment nearly thirty minutes before, and no one had seen him since.

"I'm here." She pulled herself up onto the level. "Want to sit?" he asked. He was already seated on the floor, leaning back on his hands, legs stretched long in front of him, his feet almost touching the bottom of a portrait of what could only be the royal family. She took his invitation and sat next to him, entranced by the picture.

It was another copy of the one he'd burned when he came to the beach with Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee. He had plans to destroy this one as well, but he paused them. "Here," he said, seeing her interest in it.

Katara took the picture by the frame and held it as if it were fragile enough to shatter in an instant. Her mouth was parted slightly. The man must have been Fire Lord Ozai. She'd never seen him before. He was surprisingly handsome, and though she searched for that evil glint, it wasn't there. It wasn't on young Azula's face either; she looked innocent.

But their features were nothing compared to those of the boy and the woman. There was the faintest trace of a smile on young Zuko's lips, and she wondered if it was because his father's hand rested on his shoulder. And because there was no scar over his eye.

The woman had long, dark hair, her face the essence of compassion. "That's your mother?" she asked quietly, handing the portrait back to him, aware that she was in fragile territory as she remembered their conversation in Ba Sing Se.

"Yeah." He took it and placed it back at his feet.

"She's beautiful." He smiled softly. "How long ago was that?"

"Seven years," he replied, not needing to think about it. "I was nine. It was the last family portrait before my mother left."

"I'm sorry," Katara murmured, feeling guilty that she'd brought it up.

Zuko heard the remorseful tone in her voice, and found the nerve to put his hand over hers. "It's all right, Katara. I can talk about it." He was glad to see her look up at him. "I actually...want to talk about it, and you understand better than anyone."

Her eyes were sad, just as his were, but she smiled brightly at him, touched that he considered her close enough to tell this. "My uncle was storming Ba Sing Se, and he was close. He was right there, just outside the inner wall, when his son died. But instead of pushing on, he pulled back." He grinned to himself. "I think that was the start of his change of thoughts towards the Fire Nation.

"My father said he abandoned the siege on Ba Sing Se. He talked to my grandfather, Azulon, and reasoned that since Uncle was unstable and his bloodline had ended with my cousin's death, it should be my father to take the throne."

"He did that to your uncle?" Katara asked, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

"We're talking about my father, remember?" Zuko stared at the Ozai in the portrait, and knew what lay behind that bravado. "It didn't matter, because my grandfather was enraged that he would suggest such a betrayal. He wanted to punish my father."

"Did he?"

Zuko scoffed. "To him, it was punishment. To my father, it was nothing."

His hands had balled into fists, and Katara could see him shake. At first, she thought it was rage, but then she saw a glassy coating over his eyes. It was some mixture of anger and sadness, and she wondered why he wanted to relieve those memories. She scooted closer to him, knowing that he felt her presence even though he didn't show any sign of registering it.

"He said that my father should suffer as my uncle did. He should know what it feels like to lose a first born son."

"No," Katara said, her eyes wide. "How could he do that?"

"He was Fire Lord," Zuko replied, though he knew she was referring to morals, not power. "That night, my mother woke me up to say goodbye. I thought it was a dream, but the following morning, she was gone and my grandfather was dead. When I left during the invasion, my father told me she had done treasonous things that night, and was banished. I don't know where."

Katara waited for him to continue, but he was finished with his tale. "I'm sorry," she finally said. She wrapped her arm around his. "If you ever find anything, I'll help you in any way I can."

Zuko knew the chances of that were nonexistent, but feeling her arm around his, seeing her sad and understanding - but not pitying - expression, he couldn't be cynical. "Thank you."

Relieved that he was out the trance of his haunting past, she shrugged. "You did the same for me." She looked around her. "Any luck with those pans?"

"Oh, right." He raised himself to his feet, dusted of his backside, and began to look. "Forgot about those."

Katara pulled herself up as well. "Yeah, I figured."

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**It occurred to me that Zuko knew about Katara's mother's death, but that Katara knew nothing about Zuko's mother's disappearance. I know it was kinda boring, but we needed an information chapter**

**Let me know what you think!**


	5. Night Two

**I know this one is especially short, but I already have the next chapter in the works, so it'll be up within a day or two - and it will be much longer!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, Uncle would brew all my tea for me. **

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Night Two

Exiting the tenth house that night, Katara was already starting to get woozy. Hands on her knees, she closed her eyes and leaned against the side of the house. But she listened closely to her surroundings; she wasn't as disoriented as she'd been after that last house the night before.

A moment later, she was better, though she told herself she had no choice but to let that be the last house. She'd yet to see any sign of the Blue Spirit, so she couldn't rely on him to pull her onto a rooftop and support her to the forest outside the village. She was more aware of her limits now, and after already exerting herself the night before, she knew that only one or two more houses would make her pass out.

It bothered her that she wouldn't be able to do more as she started for the gates of the town, but she was pleased with what she'd done. In addition to those who were newly healed, she'd revisited the people she'd healed the night before and left them some of the medicines from the bag the Blue Spirit had given her. It now swung at her side, lightly and rhythmically hitting her thigh when she stepped, completely empty.

"Feeling better?" a hoarse whisper asked.

Katara had neither seen nor heard the Blue Spirit come up beside her, and she flinched in surprise at his sudden presence, goosebumps erupting all over her skin. "Much," she replied as her heart beat slowed to a rate more normal, but still very fast, as if she'd just ran up the hill outside the village instead of walked. She cleared her throat. "Where did you get these medicines?"

Zuko's eyes flipped from her, to the empty bag she was holding up, and back, knowing he'd flustered her with his appearance. His mask and altered voice hid his grin. "Are they actually helping?"

She nodded, seeming to be relaxing now; she wasn't afraid of him. "They're good for teas especially."

Behind the mask, Zuko's smile faltered. He wasn't a very good brewer, but he knew about teas - the ingredients, the properties, the measurements - thanks to his uncle. Thinking of the man, a knot formed itself in his stomach. He tried to ignore it and pointed to the trees. "I'll show you where they are."

Strangely, Zuko was not further bothered by all the memories of his uncle that came flooding back as he explained to the Painted Lady the properties of the flowers, tree barks, and leaves that grew in the forest. While he didn't forget the reason he knew so much, her enthusiasm as he took her through the trees actually raised his spirits.

The bag filled once more for the following night when she would return, Katara eyed the Blue Spirit with interest. "How do you know so much about these?"

My uncle is obsessed with tea and I grew up here. He didn't say that, of course, though he wanted to. He wanted to tell her the truth, for some incredible reason; he'd been lying all his life, to people he knew and those he'd only just met. "I've been on my own for a long time. I had to learn a few things," he said, even finding a slight truth in that statement. He added, "Not all of us can heal whenever we want to." He made his tone as light as he could while keeping his voice masked, and he saw she understood that no resentment was meant when she smiled from under the brim of her hat.

* * *

**Like I said, the next (and longer) chapter will be up soon, I promise! In the mean time, keep the reviews coming! They make my day**


	6. Day Three

**Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! Here's the longer chapter I promised - enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, I'd have a pet turtle duck. And a shirshu. And a badger mole. And a baby sabertooth moose-lion (anybody else love Foo Foo Cuddlypoops?)**

* * *

Day Three

In town the following day with Sokka, Suki, and Toph, Katara allowed herself a secret smile. Word travelled fast around the small island towns, and the while she placed fruit in her basket, she heard the venders discussing the people who were making rapid recoveries with healing.

"It's a spirit, they say!"

"And there's two of them!"

"Captain Baoli is furious!"

She smirked when they started talking about the disgruntled and confused guards.

She then approached a quieter pair of vendors, who were selling the bread Sokka wanted her to get. She asked for a loaf, and overheard their conversation.

"It's a shame," the man said solemnly. "The wife is devastated."

"Of course she is," the woman replied in the same sad tone. "Spirits running around in the night, people being healed all over, and her husband somehow gets overlooked." She shook her head. "A horrible fate, especially for the two little ones. And he was one of the first to get it, too."

"First to get it, first to go." It was a cruel comment, but the cynical man had meant for it to be.

Katara payed for the bread and rejoined the group in walking back to the beach house, guilt almost spilling out of her in the form of tears. She knew that, even with the Blue Spirit's help, she would never be able to heal everyone in the village. But somehow, it had never even crossed her mind that someone would die. Sneaking around in the dead of night, hiding from the clueless guards, and giving people strength and cures; it made the entire town seem invincible to the devastation. But it wasn't.

Her stomach tied itself in a knot and remained like that for the duration of the walk back. She couldn't even blame herself, because she did what she could until she grew too dizzy to stand and needed the Blue Spirit's support to walk. No, what she felt wasn't the guilt of being at fault. What she felt was worse: the guilt of being absolutely useless, of not having been able to do anything in the first place.

When they arrived back from town, Zuko and Aang had just finished their training for the day. Sokka, Suki, and Toph entered the courtyard and took seats on the steps.

"Where's Katara?" Zuko asked, looking at the back of the house, waiting for her to come out.

"Inside, sulking," Sokka replied, lazily waving his hand behind him.

Zuko raised his good eyebrow. "Sulking?"

"Yeah," Suki said, looking behind her, showing her usual compassion. "She seemed fine at the market, but then she got really distracted on the walk back. She didn't say anything at all."

"Why do you want to know?" Toph asked.

There was something behind the question, he knew, so he answered carefully as he stepped by her and into the house. "I was just wondering."

"Yeah, okay."

He ignored the comment and continued inside, strolling through the house where he'd spent his summers. He found Katara looking out of a window in the front, her arms folded across her chest. In the reflection of the glass windows, he saw a blank look in her eyes.

"Katara?" he asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

She stiffened, not having heard anyone come up behind her, and hastily wiped at her cheeks. But just as she turned around, a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill out, though this one was more out of annoyance at herself than anything else.

Zuko hesitantly reached out to touch her arm, and was relieved that she didn't flinch away. "What's wrong?" he repeated, wanting to wipe away her tears.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

While she had every right to keep things to herself, he felt momentarily insulted. Then he went into the kitchen and pulled a piece of bread from the newly purchased loaf. Returning to the front, he took her hand and walked her to the front door. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" she asked, not really in the mood to go anywhere and wondering why he had a piece of bread.

"Just come on."

She sighed and allowed herself to be led outside and down the front steps. But instead of going to the beach, he turned left, and brought her through the trees that surrounded the house. "Seriously, Zuko, where are we going?"

A moment passed, and he replied, "Here."

In the midst of the trees was a small pond. A tiny stream flowed into it, and then continued out, probably down to the beach. Zuko sat on the dirt at the edge of the pond, and with nothing else to do, Katara followed his lead, as she had been doing since he'd pulled her out the door. But she refused to copy him when he made a strange quacking noise.

If his plan to raise her spirits included completely bewildering her, he was succeeding. "Don't judge me," he said, seeing her expression. He made the sound again, and she wondered if he was trying to make her laugh. It was a sweet gesture, something she wouldn't think to come from Zuko, but if that was the case, then she really needed to tell him she was more puzzled than amused by his actions.

"Zuko, I don't-" She cut herself off as a small animal emerged from the trees, clumsily waddling on webbed feet before gracelessly flopping into the water, kept afloat by the shell on its back. Three more soon followed, accompanied by a larger one.

"Turtle ducks," Zuko explained, a small smile gracing his lips. "My mother and I used to come here and feed them." He tore off a small piece of bread, crumbled it in his hand, and sprinkled it on the surface of the water. The animals swam and devoured the crumbs, then started quacking for more. At the sound of Katara's light laughter, he assumed he had succeeded in his plan, and gave her half of the piece of bread. They took turns scattering the bits until the ducks were no longer interested, which wasn't until they had ran out of food.

"I heard a few vendors talking about Mei Shan," she said quietly.

"Yeah?" he asked, prompting her to continue. He wanted to know why she'd been upset, and was interested in any news about the town; he hadn't gone to the market any time recently. Aang needed to train, and his scar made him too recognizable.

"They said that people were starting to recover, and that it's the work of two spirits." Zuko smiled to himself. "But, somehow, the spirits overlooked a man." She looked down. "He died. He had two kids."

His face fell as he realized what happened: _He_ had overlooked someone. He and the Painted Lady had possibly passed the very house, completely oblivious because there may have been a lack of coughing at that moment. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but he wondered why Katara was so upset. "You're too compassionate for your own good," he said softly, earning him a small smile.

He raised himself to his feet and pulled her up after him, then started to lead the way back into the house and out to the rest of the group in the courtyard.

"Feeling better?" Suki asked. Katara nodded, aware that everyone was looking at her, except one person.

"Hey, Zuko, come over here!" Toph waved enthusiastically from the fountain, but the smile on her face gave him the feeling that he should be worried.

Sokka mock saluted him. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Zuko mumbled, earning him a few laughs, the best of which came from Katara. Knowing she was happier, knowing that he did that, he almost forgot to worry about Toph. He should have.

"Okay, Sparky." She crossed her arms. "You have some serious explaining to do." The playfulness was gone now, a new note to it; this was a serious tone, a down-to-business, I'm-not-taking-any-crap kind of tone.

Zuko leaned away from the earthbender, intimidated and absolutely bewildered. "What?"

"Don't play dumb," she said. "Now look, I don't know what you and Sugar Queen are doing when you sneak out at night, and honestly, my better judgement is telling me to leave it alone." Zuko's jaw dropped, but Toph kept going, unable to see his flabbergasted expression. "The problem is that I can't leave it alone."

"Toph, I-"

"Let me finish." She put her hand up to cover his mouth, and wound up hitting him in the nose. "Frankly, Zuko, I like you, and that's the only reason I haven't said anything. We both know that if Aang and Sokka find out that you two go galavanting around at midnight, they'd probably kill you. So your best bet is just to tell me so I'm not tempted to disclose any information to angry brothers and Avatars. Besides, I'll find out eventually, anyway."

She waited, pleased with her threat. She _knew_ there was something between those two. But Zuko didn't speak. "Well?" she pushed.

"Sugar Queen?" Zuko eventually spluttered out. "As in Katara?"

"No," Toph said, remaining completely serious. "As in Appa. Of course I meant -" She stopped, her eyebrows knitting together before her eyes became wide. "You didn't know she was sneaking out at night too?" Toph knew it was true; she could feel it in his pulse. "And she doesn't know it's you."

"No," he said, breathless, turning to look at the waterbender.

"Oh." Toph shuffled her feet and laughed uncomfortably. "Well, this is awkward..."

He whirled back to her. "You haven't said anything to her, have you?"

"Uh, no, but-"

"Don't!" he begged. "Please, Toph, don't."

She narrowed her eyes. "What _are_ you doing when you sneak out?"

"Something I have to."

She wasn't satisfied with that answer, but she knew that was all he was saying. "One day I'll get it out of you."

"One day, I'll tell you willingly," he promised. "But not today. And please, don't say anything, especially not to Katara."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"Promise me, Toph."

His heart was beating madly. "Okay, okay," she said quickly, worried he was going to give himself a heart attack. "I promise. Just relax."

"Thank you." His pulse slowed as he walked away, but only a bit.

Katara, the Painted Lady. He imagined it as her: the tan skin, the slender figure, the long, dark hair, the healing - it all made sense. But he needed to be completely sure of it, he needed to actually see that it was her. Not that he would reveal his identity once he was certain; she liked him as the Blue Spirit, so he planned to stay that way.

* * *

**Gotta love Toph. As always, read and review!**


	7. Night Three

**Sorry it's been a while - I'll spare you all the lovely details of school, but suffice it to say it's been nothing short of a week from hell. So here, finally, is the next - somewhat long - chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, someone else would be doing all my homework/essays/ projects/presentations...**

**Oh, and to goldenrosebud: yes, the Blue Spirit is supposed to be super silent. I think I mention that a few times, but if I ever made him anything more than just barely audible...oops! that was an accident - feel free to point it out!**

* * *

Night Three

Now that he was fairly certain of her identity, Zuko was not surprised to find the Painted Lady sitting on the roof, staring at the building across the street. She felt his presence but acknowledged it with no more than a finger directed at the house.

"A man died there today. He had two kids."

"I know," he replied solemnly. There was really nothing else he could say.

"I guess we can't save them all," she murmured.

He hesitated, but decided to put his hand on her back. "We do what we can."

"It's just not enough." His hand had sent through her a comforting warmth, even though it didn't take away the feelings of uselessness and despair. But when he withdrew, she was overcome by a chill that wrapped itself around her. "Where are you going?"

Barely a second had passed, and he was already standing at the edge of the rooftop, poised to jump onto the next. It was impossible, how swiftly and soundlessly he moved. "To set it as close to right as I can." He tilted his head, considering her. She wished she knew what was going on behind the mask. "Care to join me?"

* * *

Katara hadn't gone to the back of the village, let alone even thought about it. It was a row of great and awe-striking mansions, smaller than the Fire Nation palace, of course, but immensely larger than the three room houses in the rest of the town. If given the task, the entire enclosure that was her village in the Southern Water Tribe would only be able to fit one of the buildings, maybe two if they knocked down the igloo.

Zuko was not impressed by the size; he'd grown up in grander buildings, and was fully aware that bigger homes meant little about the people that inhabited them. The best places he'd been were small camps in the forest and simple Earth Kingdom apartments, with his uncle.

"This one belongs to governor Canku," he said as they approached one house and crept into a side alley that Katara probably wouldn't have noticed on her own. Hiding in the dark shadows cast down by the balcony from the second story, he took her to the back of the dirty, dingy lane, where there was a door closed with a padlock. He reached over his shoulder and pulled his sword from its sheath, sticking the point in the lock and wiggling it.

Katara furrowed her eyebrows, because even though she clearly saw him draw the sword and it was in his hand at the moment, it remained in the sheath. She stepped closer to him, trying to see through the darkness, and was just able to make out the hilts, perfectly halved. Dual swords, she realized just as the lock clicked and he pushed the door open.

It creaked on hinges rusty with daily use and neglect of care, but after a minute of crouching in the black of the servant's hall, they were both convinced no one had heard. They continued creeping down, Zuko leading. He cast a glance into the first door on his right and grimaced; it was the kitchen, exactly what he was looking for, but the light was on.

Katara stopped when he did. "What is it?"

"There are people inside." His voice was annoyed, but he kept walking, a new idea dawning on him - not one as good, but one that could get them something until the kitchen was empty. Barely five steps away, on the opposite side of the hall, was the storage room. He was pleased to find that wasn't locked. Inside, though, was pitch black. He felt his way in the darkness along the wall until he reached the oil lamp, but his attempts to turn it on failed.

"Do you have a match?" she asked from somewhere behind him.

"More or less," he replied, glad for the darkness as he shot a flame at the wick. It caught, and lit up the storage closet. He surveyed the food. It wasn't what he'd wanted, as he knew he could get from the kitchen things that were actually cooked or baked. But at least it was something.

Katara saw it too, and immediately started pulling open bags. She ignored the multiple sacks of flour, but grabbed one filled with rice and one containing cabbage. On the other side of the room, the Blue Spirit was filling an empty sack with little bags of fruits and vegetables: Ash bananas, cherries, leechi nuts, lettuce, pink and purple berries, tomato-carrots, pomegranates.

Closing the door, they crept out of the storage room and back into the alley, where Katara was surprised to see him put down the bag, careful not to bruise any of the fruit inside. He turned back to reenter. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He looked at the food they'd collected. "It's not enough. I'm just going to see if I can get into the kitchens."

"I'm coming," she told him. Behind the mask, he smiled, and they went back inside to the kitchen door. The lights were still on, but they were dimmed, and no one was inside.

This was what he wanted: baskets of breads and rolls, meats and fish in the ice locker, and barrels of prepared dumplings that only needed to be boiled in water.

Katara watched in amazement. How did he know where everything was? She distractedly put rolls in an extra sack as the Blue Spirit went through the cabinets, pulling down containers of all different sizes. He tossed a few to her and instructed her to fill them with dumplings. In the meantime, he drew both swords and began slicing duck, komodo chicken, squid, and sea slug. He then put them in containers, which he neatly stacked on top of each other. He never once used his hands.

Wiping his swords on a nearby sack, he decided that they definitely needed to be cleaned soon. He sheathed them, picked up the containers, and turned to look, for the first time, straight into the eyes of the Painted Lady. They were blue, deep, clear blue, like the pure water of the oceans she lived near.

Without a doubt in his mind, he knew it was her.

He realized they had remained staring at each other, and he was glad for his mask. "What?" he asked.

She shouldered the sack filled with bread, turned to leave, and answered, "Nothing."

* * *

Ladened with their bags, it was slow and tiresome moving back to the main area of the village, but the strained muscles were nothing in comparison to the feeling of being able to leave food at the doorstep of the new widow. They used the extra to distribute around, depositing a loaf of bread here, a container of dumplings there.

"I knew the governor ate well, but I didn't think so little of his food could feed so much of the village," Katara said as she finally emptied their sack by placing a container of sea slug and a bag of purple berries at the door to a house near the gates of the village.

"Fire Nation officials eat like pigs," Zuko replied as they left the town and began climbing the hill to reach the forest. "Even if they don't deserve to." He'd been on both sides of that, having grown up always having a piece of food available if his stomach so much as gurgled, and also being so hungry he'd nearly passed out. "Just for one day, I'd like to see them eat like everyone else." He smiled at the thought. "I doubt they'd survive."

Katara couldn't help herself; the words just came tumbling out. "How do you know so much about it all?" At the tree line outside of the city gates now, he stopped and his head snapped to the side to look at her. "About the Fire Nation, I mean." It took him a second before his heart rate slowed and he reminded himself that it wasn't an accusation; she was just curious.

"I've been doing this for a long time."

She left it at that, but watched him until he disappeared into the shadows of the forest. He was tall and muscular, but she couldn't imagine him being that much older than she was. How long was a long time?

* * *

**Hopefully the next update will be sooner - I'll do my best :/ In the meantime, reviews are much appreciated!**


	8. Day Four

**THANK YOU ALL REVIEWERS!**

**somedayisours: I agreee with you completely - the Blue Spirit firebending was a quick, just-need-to-light-the-storage-closet kind of thing. I don't plan on him bending...much...you'll see**

**The Summer Breeze: on the first night, I had Zuko change his voice to be kind of rough and raspy. I just let it carry over - sorry if that wasn't clearer!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, Jet would be alive (yes, I'm a Jet fan)**

* * *

Day Four

"I can't believe we're actually going to see a play about _us_!" Sokka exclaimed with glee, practically bouncing with excitement as the group entered the theater.

"I can't believe I actually let you drag me to go see it," Zuko grumbled.

"Wow," Sokka said, serious as they took their seats. "You _are _never happy."

From her seat next to him, Katara saw the corner of Zuko's mouth turn up. "Liar," she leaned over and whispered as the lights dimmed. He turned his head to flash her an attractive half-grin. Glad for the darkness that hopefully hid her blush, she looked to the stage. She soon wished, though, that she had kept her eyes on Zuko. Or on anything other than the atrocity that was supposed to be their journey.

The play was awful to the point of being ridiculous. She stopped paying attention somewhere around when her annoyingly preachy character was crying about hope while stuck in King Bumi's crystals. But she sat up straight when they reached the part where Aang was trapped in the prison. She vaguely remembered Aang mentioning something about this being when she and Sokka were sick. She'd never discovered what had happened. Her jaw dropped as the events unfolded before her.

"I am the Blue Spirit, scourge of the Fire Nation, here to save the Avatar!" Katara ignored the actor Aang's feminine leap onto the spirit's mask and the coo of, "My hero!" Did the Blue Spirit really rescue him? She wanted to lean over to Aang and find out, but the play continued loudly. She'd have to save it for later.

The next time she payed attention to the long and messed up production was when her character and Zuko's character were in the crystal catacombs under Ba Sing Se. She wondered where in the four nations the writer had gotten _this_ information. The characters embraced, and Katara couldn't help the blush that spread to her cheeks. Behind her, Toph snickered. "What?" Katara snapped.

"Oh, nothing, Sugar Queen."

Zuko heard Toph's comment and wanted to send her a look that would wipe the smile off her face. But he could glare all he wanted; it would be useless against the blind girl. He turned back to the play, and saw a few minutes later when he deserted his uncle.

"I'll hate you for all time!" His character gave the one portraying his uncle a rough shove that pushed him to the ground. Katara looked to see Zuko, his head in his arms that were folded on the railing. He looked miserable.

Intermission was a welcome relief, as Katara was finally able to ask about the Blue Spirit. "Does anyone know where Aang is?" she asked after searching around the theater and not finding him. She received a few shrugs and negative responses, so she continued her search on her own.

She finally found him outside on the veranda, and the thought of discovering more about the Blue Spirit sent a sudden thrill of excitement through her. "Hey, Aang, about the play-"

"What about it?" he snapped.

She approached him cautiously now. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said, his jaw clenched. "That play is so stupid."

Katara furrowed her eyebrows. "Yeah, I know, but I think you're overreacting a bit."

"No, I'm not." Katara didn't contradict him again. "Because you said that I was like a brother to you."

"Aang," she said, trying to reason with him, keeping her voice low and steady, "that's the play." But in truth, it wasn't just on the stage.

"I kissed you," he continued, as if she hadn't said anything, "at the invasion, and I thought, well..."

Katara looked down. She'd wanted to ask him about the Blue Spirit, the thought of whom made her heart race, and instead found herself confronting a relationship with Aang. She regretted coming to ask him now. "I don't know."

"Why not?"

His voice was demanding, and her head snapped up. How could he ask that? "We're in a war, Aang! We all have other things to worry about!" Like Fire Princes and masked vigilantes and...other feelings. She sighed. "I'm confused right now."

She stared down, seeing the two faces - one scarred, once masked - in the wood she stood on. Neither of those faces belonged to Aang. But the lips that suddenly touched hers did.

She pulled away immediately, embarrassed, uncomfortable, and annoyed at him. Turning quickly, she hurried back inside. While she was still itching to know about the Blue Spirit, she wasn't about to ask him anything now.

* * *

A hand brushed against Katara's arm. "Are you okay?" Zuko asked, seeing that she hadn't been paying attention for the last ten minutes of the play.

He snapped her out of her jumbled mess of thoughts, but, of course, the fact that he was a good deal of her confusion didn't help. "I'm fine." She cleared her throat a little. "What did I miss?"

"You guys are storming the palace and I just joined you. I'm about to fight Azula."

She watched, hardly interested in the orange and blue ribbons the characters were shooting, when suddenly a line of flames sprouted from the ground, engulfing Zuko's character. "Honor!" he cried as he disappeared with the sinking special effect. Katara stared, eyes widening as the crowd applauded more enthusiastically than they had for anything else so far.

"I think I just died," Zuko muttered, appalled by the combination of his on-stage death and the cheering. He sank lower into his seat.

Katara choked as something constricted around the left side of her chest. A final battle between Zuko and Azula could - and probably would - happen, and she was terrified to admit it to herself, but what happened on stage was a possibility. More cheering ensued as Ozai defeated Aang and conquered the rest of the world, but Katara saw in her mind's eye as they shuffled out of the theater a vision of Zuko, not the character, in agonizing pain.

She shook her head, focusing on every other crummy part of the play as they walked from the theater to the beach. She slowed her pace to let Aang and Toph pass, and filed in line beside Zuko, close enough to notice their proximity; his mere presence was all that reminded her that he was fine.

"That play was ridiculous," he said for conversation.

Katara picked the first thing she could remember disliking about the it. "I'm not really like that, am I?"

"Like what?"

"All preachy."

"No." He smiled, full of warmth, calming her tattered nerves. "They got you all wrong."

She smiled a little. "I'm glad someone agrees with me. What did you think?"

"Of my character?" She nodded. "I think they were pretty accurate."

She hadn't expected him to agree so easily with the playwright, and found herself slowly being distracted from that last scene she could barely stop thinking about. "Did you really say that to your uncle?"

He raised his good eyebrow. "About him smelling bad? No." He lowered his voice. "I actually didn't say anything. I just turned my back on him. Watching that was like reliving every mistake I've ever made since I started hunting Aang. Everything just came rushing back, and it hit me full force. Especially what happened between me and my uncle."

Katara remembered how miserable he'd looked during that part of the play. "Zuko, it's been over half a year since all this started. You're a completely different person now." She was tempted to reach up and steer his face to look at her, but he'd already turned his head. "Trust me. I know."

"But what I did to my uncle wasn't even two months ago."

"And since then you've changed," she argued. "You know you have. If your uncle knew what you were doing right now, he'd be proud of you." He didn't look fully convinced. "You said he stayed by your side, through every setback?"

"Yeah."

"This is just another one." Quieter, she added, "He forgives you for what happened back in Ba Sing Se."

Her tone was so sincere that Zuko immediately believed it had to be true. But still he asked, "How can you know?"

"Because I forgave you." She smiled brightly. "And from the little I know about him, he's much better with forgiveness than I am."

There was a brief moment in which Zuko's golden eyes lit up with pleasure, but it disappeared when he blinked. "I really am sorry," he said, "about what happened in Ba Sing Se."

"I know." She bit her lip, wanting to say more and trying to ignore what the play had portrayed. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded. "I really thought you'd changed. What made you...not?"

He shrugged. "The same thing as always. It was suddenly all right there - my honor, my father's love, my place in line for the throne. It was everything I thought I'd always wanted."

"But it wasn't?"

"No." He shook his head. "It wasn't. The place I belong is here, with you all, teaching Aang."

She looked up at the Fire Prince, thinking that if anyone had told her six months ago that this is where she would be, she would have accused them of guzzling cactus juice. "I'm glad you're here."

He gave her a half-grin. "I'm just sorry it took so long." A comfortable silence settled between them, but, just out of curiosity, he had to break it. "So...you and Jet, huh?"

She playfully shoved him, but it was so light that he barely moved, more aware of her hand on his arm than of his balance. "Please don't go there," she said with an eye roll, recalling how the playwright had butchered the facts of that part of their journey.

Zuko found himself beaming; she was over that relationship. But her next comment made the smile leave his face.

"Did the Blue Spirit really get Aang out of jail when you captured him?"

"Well, Zhao actually caught him," he replied. "I was just there. But, yeah, the Blue Spirit got him out." He remembered the actual night, much different than what happened in the play.

"Do you know anything about him?"

"Like what?"

"Like who he is?"

Zuko shrugged. "I know as much as the next person. Why?"

"Just wondering," she said, her tone making him think just how much she was wondering. "I mean, it's strange, isn't it? That he busted into a Fire Nation prison to get Aang out, while Sokka and I didn't even know what was going on? And we haven't seen him since."

"Yeah," Zuko said dully, seeing the dreamy, far away look in her eyes as she thought of seeing him - no, of seeing the Blue Spirit - that night. "It is weird."

* * *

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	9. Night Four

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, my descriptions of waterbending would be ten times more awesome and accurate because I WOULD BE A WATERBENDER!**

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Night Four

The night was so silent that Katara could easily hear the coughing, and she let that be her guide until a hand grabbed her arm.

"Security and patrol have tightened after our food fest last night." Katara nodded her understanding to the Blue Spirit, then continued walking. He pulled her back. "That means we need to be careful."

"We're always careful." Why was he so jumpy? "And besides, listen to that."

"I know," he said, once again tuning into the rough cough. "I can hear it, and so can the guards."

She folded her arms, and Zuko knew enough about Katara to recognize that he was in dangerous territory. Even if he didn't know Katara, he would have figured that out about the Painted Lady on his own. "You don't really expect me to sit back and let him suffer, do you?"

"Of course not," he defended himself meekly. "That man needs help. I'm just saying that we've been lucky avoiding the guards, but that might change, so be prepared." She relaxed her stance. "I'll be on the rooftop, but make it fast." That said, he used the window of a nearby house as a foothold and lightly pulled himself onto the roof. "And try to lessen that blue light thing you do."

"No promises," she replied as she snuck in the shadows down the street. But just as she was about to open the door to the house where the coughing was coming from, there was a clatter. It came from the street running parallel to the one she was on, with the line of houses - on one of which the Blue Spirit sat - acting as a barrier. She froze and dove back into the shadows.

Zuko pressed himself to the rooftop and only raised himself after twenty seconds of silence. Katara was well hidden, but peaked out of her spot to give him a questioning look. He held up his hand, symboling for her to wait. In any other situation, she would have listened; she could be daring and take risks, but she was also logical and reasonable. Unfortunately, this was not one of those situations. Another coughing fit ensued from inside, and she turned to the building, gesturing helplessly.

He looked up. "Oh, for the love of..." He sighed and shook his head. He'd been right: she was far too compassionate for her own good.

Katara saw him finally accept defeat and wave her on, as if to say, "Yes, fine, just go!" Then he pointed to the alley on the other side of his roof perch, and she took that to mean that he would check out the sound while she was inside the house.

She slipped through the door and kneeled beside the man laying flat on his back, his eyes squeezed together in pain as he took long, shuddering inhales. There was nothing she could do about the glow, but she healed and soothed the man as quickly as she could, acknowledging his strained thanks with nothing more than a nod. She pulled herself to her feet, recapped her water skin, and hurried to the door.

"I knew it!" A gruff voice shouted from the end of the street. Katara halted in mid-step: A soldier. "I thought I saw that blue light!" He called for any other guard in the immediate area to come to him, and she sprinted the opposite way, but skidded to a halt when two more armed men came running around the corner from that direction. Her heart started to beat faster. There were no side alleys she could slip into, and back the other way, two more soldiers had joined that first, bringing the total to five.

They approached her slowly, swords drawn, trying to circle around her. She glanced up at the rooftop, and that was when she started to panic.

It was empty.

* * *

Zuko grumbled under his breath about Katara's kindness. Yes, it was a wonderful thing and the world would be a better place if there were more people like her. Obviously, his own goodness - if it had even been there at the start - had been squelched after years of his father and Azula and banishment, and was therefore nowhere close to hers. He couldn't stop himself from thinking that asking her to wait a minute wasn't that unreasonable if it was to keep her safe.

He continued to grouse to himself as he crept to the other side of the rooftop. He saw no movement, but did recognize the source of the noise: a pile of wooden crates in a side alley had fallen to the ground. Suspicious, he dropped to the stone street and approached them, seeing absolutely nothing.

A moment later, though, he did hear something: a soft, light padding. He whirled around, drawing his swords in mid-turn, poised to face his challenger.

A stray dog.

He sighed, connecting the animal to the disturbance, and was about to sheath his swords when heard another sound, this one definitely human, and definitely bad: "I knew it! I thought I saw that blue light!"

* * *

Katara flipped the cap off her water skin, waiting for the soldiers to approach her. She didn't like them getting any closer, but she didn't have enough water to take all five of them on from a distance.

Twenty foot radius...Fifteen foot radius.

"Put your hands up!" She didn't comply.

Ten foot radius...nine...eight...

She stopped counting, and the guards stopped moving, everyone's eyes on the shaggy, skinny, brown dog that was barking and charging through the circle. They all remained paused like that, watching the animal as it ran down the street and disappeared around a corner.

Katara was the first to remember the situation. Well, maybe the second. The first was probably the soldier to her left, the one that the Blue Spirit dropped down on. Taken by surprise and already standing no chance against the masked figure, the guard was unconscious before any of the others even started to move.

Katara met the Blue Spirit halfway as he ran towards her, ending back to back. The four remaining guards charged, swords raised. "Oh, please," he mumbled, just loud enough for Katara to hear and grin. She felt immensely better, knowing she had him with her now.

The clash of steel on steel resonated through the streets, but Katara took the other two by using a different approach. She used every ounce of water in her pouch to make a wave that crashed into the guard in the shadows. Having used the darkness to her advantage, all that anyone else would have seen was the soldier thrown against the wall of the house. The other guard watched the outline of his comrade slump down and collapse, unconscious.

Creeping into the shadows herself, she bent the water back to her and sent it in the form of a whip, smacking the second soldier's hand. His grip on his sword lessened as a red welt started to form and she snatched it from his grasp with the water, throwing it behind her.

Out of his peripheral vision, Zuko saw a sword go flying before clattering on the ground. He was tempted turn around and see what on earth Katara was doing, but he faced three guards, because, just his luck, another one had decided to join the party.

One was no match for him; two was definitely a challenge he was up for; three was an experience he could live without, especially when they were going for a kill, and he was trying not to do any irreparable damage. He spent most of his time dodging and diving out of reach, hitting with punches or kicks, using his swords for defense only.

He finally managed to land a roundhouse kick against one mans helmet, and the shock of it sent him to the ground. Two was a much more even fight, but he was tiring, and his arm stung. He put up his swords as the two remaining neared him, but one suddenly fell to the ground, his legs swept out from under him, and he was pulled into the shadows.

Zuko gulped, even though he knew it was Katara's doing. The last guard, however, was not aware of that, and he stared at the space that his comrade used to occupy, jaw slack. Zuko took the time to rush him, easily ducking under the desperate swing when the man remembered the battle. He sidestepped the second chop, grabbed and twisted his sword arm until the weapon was out of his hand, and jammed the hilt of his own sword on top of the man's head. The man sunk to his knees, then fell flat on his face.

Breathing heavily, Zuko surveyed the damage that was six unconscious guards, two of which he could only see a few limbs of, as the rest of them were in darkness. Katara emerged from those shadows, and once he knew she was okay, his annoyance at her rebuilt itself.

"We need to get out of here, now," he commanded. He sheathed his swords and started to run to the entrance to the village, knowing she was right beside him. They checked down streets and alleys for more guards, but their main concern was getting out as fast as they could. They didn't stop running until they were at the trees outside of town.

He opened his mouth to complain, but she beat him to words. "Are you okay?"

"What?" he asked, thrown off. He looked down and saw that his forearm was bleeding. He wiped the red with the sleeve of his other arm, vaguely remembering feeling the sting during the fight. "It's just a scratch," he said quickly, beginning his rant. "Tell me why I can't leave you alone for two minutes."

She furrowed her eyebrows; even in his low, raspy voice, she could hear the tone was serious and bothered, not teasing. She'd been inclined to heal his arm, but now she wasn't so sure if she wanted to alleviate his pain. "What does that mean?"

"It means, would it have killed you to wait a minute while I went to see what made the sound?"

"You told me to go," she reminded him. Why was he so on edge?

She skipped crossing her arms and went straight to putting her hands on her hips, but Zuko didn't back down. "Only because you probably would have whether I gave consent or not!" He was right, and they both knew it. Katara turned away from him, wondering why that excited thrill that had been constantly present in her chest since meeting him was suddenly making her heart race even more than it usually did. He sighed. "I'm sorry." He hesitated, then decided to admit, "I was worried."

_That _was why the thrill was suddenly working double-time. She turned back to face him, but ducked her head so he couldn't see how she was biting her lip. "I can take care of myself, you know." When he didn't respond, she quietly said, "I'll see you tomorrow," and walked away, leaving him standing at the forest's edge with a dumb-struck look on his face that no one could see.

She was Katara; of course she could protect herself, and he had first hand knowledge of just how well she could. So why did he feel so inclined to protect her? Why was he not even willing to give her the chance to prove to him what he already knew to be true?

Katara glanced back to see the Blue Spirit standing in the exact spot she'd left him. She was in trouble and she knew it. It wasn't right, and it didn't make sense, because she'd known him only four days.

He was deadly: fit, strong, and nimble, he wielded those dual edged swords as easily as she bended water. But he was also moral and decent, never inflicting harm on the Fire Nation soldiers, only getting them out of the way. And, as she found out tonight, he would do anything to protect her.

Again, that rush rose up in her chest, but this time she forced it back down. She didn't know who he was, where he was from, or even the color of his eyes. If she were in the town, she wouldn't be able to pick him out in the crowd.

She knew nothing definitive about this Blue Spirit, nothing that would account for why her heart jumped and her stomach dropped and goosebumps erupted on her skin when she was near him. Nothing that explained why there was something so familiar about him, something so comforting and easy about their relationship. Like how he made her feel so safe. Like how it seemed as if they'd worked together before. Why did being with him feel so natural, so much better than she'd ever felt about being with anyone - especially anyone she knew nothing about?

But, it wasn't _him_, though. It couldn't be. It was the _idea_ of him. It was the danger and the mystery that surrounded him, the things that gave her such a rush.

What was he doing to her?

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	10. Day Five

**Okay, I know this is a really short one - *dives under to able to avoid being hit by rotten food* SORRY! It just worked out that way. But I already have the next chapter in the works, and I promise, it'll be longer and it'll be up soon!**

**Thank you to all the reviewers for letting me know that at least somebody somewhere is enjoying this story. All constructive criticism and insights are beyond helpful. You guys are the best.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, the cabbage merchant would've had more screen time.**

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Day Five

"_Zuko!_"

He jumped in response to the loud call, barely managing to keep his balance and not fall back into the empty fountain he was seated on the rim of. "What?" He looked to the airbender, wondering why his name had been shouted when the boy was right in front of him.

"I said your name twice already," Aang told him, eyebrows knit together and arms crossed. "What's wrong with you today?"

"Nothing," Zuko answered, remaining level even though Aang was not convinced.

"I almost beat you in training today."

Zuko shrugged, but glanced sideways at the empty walkway around the courtyard, reminding himself that Katara wasn't there; she and Suki had gone back to the market, forbidding Toph and Sokka from joining them. "You're getting better."

Aang shook his head. "Why are you so tired lately?"

"I'm not," Zuko lied. "I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah?" Aang pointed at Zuko's injured arm. "Where did that come from?"

"It's a scratch. It's not important," Zuko defended himself, wondering why Aang's tone was so accusing. It was true that he'd been tired lately, but he'd noticed that Aang had been a little off as well, and his bad mood hadn't returned to his usual playful, relaxed, monk attitude since the play. "Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?"

His face suddenly hardened. "I'm not picking a fight, I just want to know what you've been doing!"

"What makes you think I've been doing anything?" Zuko asked, barely hiding his suspicions. What if Toph had said something? What if Aang had woken up and discovered he was gone?

Aang gestured to Zuko's whole body. "Being tired, being sloppy." He stopped moving his hand and indicated a specific limb, the injured forearm. "A sudden, random injury. What's been going on with you? You're supposed to be teaching me firebending!"

Zuko raised himself from his seat, annoyed now. Whatever bad mood Aang was in was doing the talking, he was sure, but it didn't stop the comment from bothering him. "I'm not?" he asked, his voice cold. He pulled himself up to full height, towering a full head over the Avatar. "Then, please, tell me, what were we doing when we carried flames up the mountain and faced down two dragons? Or, better yet, what have I been doing since I got here? You know, after I left my home, betrayed my country, and disowned my family?"

Zuko could see in the boy's eyes that Aang would say no more on the subject, and that he knew his accusations were unfair and for the wrong reasons. But he still held his ground.

"Um..." The two boys looked up to see Suki and Katara entering the courtyard, the bags in their arms filled with food from the market. They exchanged confused looks before Katara asked, "Are we interrupting something?"

Anger flashed in Aang's eyes when he'd heard her voice. "No," he replied, his voice harsh. He turned and angrily stormed into the house.

Zuko approached the two girls as they watched the other boy walk away. He tried to ignore the threatened feeling he had from the saddened look on Katara's face as her eyes followed Aang's retreating figure until a door slammed shut. "Anything interesting going on in town?" he asked, not really interested at all. He took a bag from each of them to lighten their loads.

"The vigilantes - that's what the people are calling them - attacked a group of guards last night," Suki started.

"But that's what the guards say," Katara interjected, and Zuko knew why, his thoughts confirmed as she continued. "I bet they probably attacked the two, and were beaten up by them. They lied so it wouldn't seem like they'd taken the vigilantes by surprise and still lost."

Zuko grinned to himself. "I hope they learned their lesson." His smile fell when he heard Katara sigh.

"I don't think so."

"What do you mean?"

"Governor Canku and Captain Baoli are angry," Suki explained. "Like, really angry. They're ordering the workers to go deeper into the mines, where the air is even worse. They're bound to get sicker."

He refrained from throwing something, as what he had in his hands was their only food. "Taking it out on the people," he spat, disgusted by the two officials and by what little his and Katara's actions had accomplished for the good of the villagers. This, he needed to do something about. He stopped listening to whatever Suki continued talking about, already planning.

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	11. Night Five

**As promised, a long one - YAY!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, the live-action movie would have... You know what? I'm not even gonna go there.**

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Night Five

"Spirit!" Katara whispered. The name sounded foolish to her, but she didn't know what else to call him. She wouldn't say, "Blue Spirit," because that was too long and awkward, but she wasn't about to call him "Blue" either.

He looked down from his perch on a branch in the tree and lightly dropped to the ground, bending his knees to absorb the impact. "Did you hear about the mines?" she asked.

"About Canku and Baoli forcing them in deeper? Yes, I did." He didn't take his eyes off the village, though, drawing Katara's curiosity.

"What are you planning?"

He pointed to a tall building to the left of the entrance and some way into the village. "That's where they keep the records. It'll have information on just about everything - including the mine layout." He turned to her. "We're going to use that to shut down the deeper levels."

There was something in his voice. "What's the problem?"

"It's attached to the guard house," he answered bluntly.

"They keep all their records with the guards?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly with them, but within their reach."

"As in their patrol routes?"

"Yeah." He scratched the back of his head, trying to think of the best way to go about getting the plans when she sighed and started towards the gates.

* * *

"That's bigger than I thought it would be," Katara admitted. The record building had been peeking over the tops of all the other houses when he'd pointed it out from the tress, but the homes were tiny; she hadn't been expecting it to be _that_ towering, rising up four stories. There was an observation deck that wrapped around the second level and was connected to the slightly smaller guardhouse by a short bridge.

They stayed outside the building, in the shadows across the street, observing the guard routes. "They move on to the next station every thirty seconds," he said.

She nodded, having seen that too. "What level would it be on?" At this point, she just assumed he would know.

Zuko paused, thinking. For most town records, which were usually smaller, the first floor was dedicated to a full and detailed account of Fire Nation history, while the second level contained specifics about the town and its governors. The third floor was generally for economic documents. But here, he wasn't sure why there was a fourth floor. Maybe Mei Shan just had a lot of records about their excessive mining.

"Either the third or the fourth. We'll have to get inside through a window." He scanned the tower, just wondering when.

"Now." He followed her pointing finger. "Look at the guard movements. This one coming towards us turns his back on that stretch of the deck before the second one rounds the corner."

Zuko scrutinized the area, counting four seconds for them to get over the rail, onto the deck, and up to the sloping roof. He didn't like the idea, but saw no better options, and recognized that as soon as they got past the deck, they would have no further obstacles aside from any guards inside. "We'll have to go one at a time."

Sliding from the shadows, they took a long, circular route, giving the guard house a wide berth. They went around the house next to it and then into the dingy space between the two buildings. Katara went first, the Blue Spirit giving her a lift up to the first floor roof. He hoisted himself up after, and they pressed themselves against the deck railing, their only hope being the guard's lack of desire to suddenly look down.

They both let out silent breaths of relief when no shouts came for guards to seize them. Instead, there was a thud - the guard's first step away. Katara rolled to her feet, slid over the deck rail, and jumped to pull herself onto the next level roof, the tail of her purple cloak just making it over before the second guard appeared.

Zuko sighed in relief, wondering how the new guard above him didn't hear his thundering heart. He didn't know what he'd do if she'd been captured, but he was fairly certain it would involve a lack of thinking on his part and a fight with every guard on duty until he had her back.

The guard's first step reminded him that wasn't necessary, and he launched himself over the railing and onto the roof. "Are you okay?" he asked as soon as he was settled.

"Yeah," she replied. "You?"

He nodded, not at all concerned with his well being, and pointed up. They climbed to the next level, and from there, it was easy walking over the roof and slipping in through the window. Immediately, the hair on the back of Zuko's neck stood on end: There were no guards, neither to see nor hear. But after a moment of crouching on the wooden floor, he thought it safe to assume that they weren't patrolling this level. He remained wary, but seized the chance presented.

Katara followed his lead, wondering why no guards were around, but believing in the Blue Spirit's instincts, which were much more attuned to these situations than hers were.

The records, just like those in the Fire Nation palace, were kept in book cases. He took the left column of cases while she went to the right, looking for anything that could be for mining. After a while of silence, she whispered to him, having found the mining records. They were from forty years prior, but she knew it was a start. They scanned twice as fast now that they had something to go on, but soon the records ran out.

"It must continue of the fourth floor," he muttered, hoping it would have been easier. "Let's go." He looked back at her, waiting for her to join him, while he opened the door to the stairs.

"DON'T LET HIM DRAW HIS SWORDS!" Katara heard a gruff voice shout. She threw herself back behind the bookshelf, watching as two guards tackled the Blue Spirit to the ground. They pulled his swords from his back and kept him pinned to the floor, calling for back up.

Zuko grudgingly gave them credit for knowing better than to take him on by themselves, and for managing to get him down before he'd been able to unsheathe his weapons. But they had caught him off guard, as he'd opened the door for them and had spent a moment looking back at Katara.

Katara.

He turned his face so his cheek was pressed to the wooden floor, and saw her, peeking out from behind a bookshelf.

Beneath her cloak, she uncapped her water skin, but when she started to inch forward, the Blue Spirit shook his head vigorously; three more guards arrived.

She recapped it and watched them steer him away, jesting about how he'd walked right to them and how they would give Baoli the pleasure of unmasking him. He threw his head to the side, making a show of not going willingly, but Katara knew better than that: He was telling her to get out.

Yeah, right.

She waited for ten seconds after the doors doors closed, then bolted through them and up the stairs, to the fourth floor. She scoured the bookshelves, heart pounding, and found the records picked up right where those from the lower floor left off, just as the Blue Spirit had said they would.

She hastily sped over the dates until she finally found that month's reports. She ripped that box from the shelf and tore the lid off, opening and throwing aside scrolls with no regard to how or where they landed. Product, income, exports, registered workers...

Layout.

The map of the mines, a rough sketch, unrolled into a sheet that went from her waist to the ground. Assured it was what she needed, she rolled it back up and shoved it in the bag that contained the medicines. She hastily returned everything else to the box, just well enough so the lid fit on top, and crammed it back into the shelf before running to the window and climbing onto the roof, just in time to see them lead him inside the guard house.

"Take the swords as proof to Captain Baoli, and tell him the prisoner will be in the last ground cell," she heard one guard say.

The man holding the sheath did as he was told, going off alone.

* * *

Zuko grimaced when he heard the heavy door lock behind him. He paced his cell in his annoyance, having known even before they'd tossed him in that he had no way out.

Guard houses had two sets of cells. The first floor was for regular felons who stole pieces of bread from their neighbors or caused uproars in the middle of the streets. But the cells underground were metal boxes with no windows, made for high security. They were designed especially for high-risk criminals to stay in until the army could come and take them to prison.

Zuko was well aware that what he'd done in this village - aside from assaulting the guards the night before - really wasn't that bad, considering his past. Unfortunately, they would consider his past.

_"I am the Blue Spirit, scourge of the Fire Nation..."_ Quite a hole he'd dug for himself.

He knocked on the metal door, wishing Toph was with him, thinking guiltily that he really had let Aang down, and hoping beyond all hope that Katara had left like he'd tried to tell her to do. But she was bold and daring and courageous, and she never listened to him.

Or, rather, to Zuko. Maybe he'd get somewhere with her as the Blue Spirit. He hoped so, because he wasn't getting anywhere with anything else any time soon.

He sat against the wall, waiting for Baoli and his vendetta to come and take his mask off, discover his identity, and send him in chains to his father, who would probably ship him to the Boiling Rock. He sighed, thinking of how he'd rather not end up at there again. That trip had been on his own terms, for the most part, and he'd seen more than enough of that place.

He heard footsteps from down the hall approaching him quickly. Probably Baoli, excited to see the catch of the day. He looked up, ready, and despite all that he knew was coming to him, he had a complete lack of regret for taking the fall as long as Katara had gotten away.

But she hadn't gotten away. She couldn't have gotten away, as she was the one to open the door.

"You came to get me?" he breathed, confused, as he caught the sheath she tossed to him.

Behind the mask, Katara knew there was a shocked face, and she wished she could have seen it. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I told you to get out!" he sputtered, thinking of all the ways she could have been captured.

"Can't you say, 'Thanks,' like a normal person?" she asked as they ran past knocked out guards and smashed windows. He could make out water stains and droplets, but only because he knew to look for them. "And by the way," she added, her tone cocky, one that Zuko had never heard her take before, "I got those plans."

Once up the stairs and out of the guard house, the ringing bells of an emergency blaring behind them, he reflected on why he was shouldn't feel so astonished by her anymore. But she never ceased to amaze him.

When they reached the tree line, they stopped, and Katara drew the scroll from her bag, her heart still pounding from the rush of adrenaline, that thrill stuck in her chest. "Here," she said, and they poured over the map.

"We can shut it down tomorrow night when no one's there," he said, pointing. "If we block these two tunnels, it'll cut off all access to to the inner caverns. It'll force them to stay closer to the front."

"And look at the air holes," Katara added. "I bet they've been neglected, and we can reopen them for fresh air closer to the entrance."

"Simple," he said. "You take the air vents and reopen them. I'll block the entrances to the back tunnels."

Katara tilted her head. "How are you going to do that?"

"Don't worry," he replied as she stood, rolled up the scroll, and tucked it in the bag. "I have a way." She raised an eyebrow above a curious, blue eye, but he left it at that, thinking about the old fireworks in the attic at the beach house.

Finally, she assumed he wasn't going to say anymore, and began to walk away. "Hey!" he called. She stopped and turned. "Thanks."

"Well, look at that," she replied. "A normal person." A new kind of feeling filled her middle, one that made her want to frown and smile at the same time. It wasn't that rush of excitement; she wasn't really sure what it was, and it confused her. But as it worked its way through her stomach and up into her chest, all she knew was that there was a lot of it.

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**so there's this rumor going around that review boxes look really cool when there are words in them. why don't you go ahead and try that out? *hint-hint***


	12. Day Six

**Sorry for the (lack of) length...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did,** **someone would have given foaming mouth guy a rabies shot.**

* * *

Day Six

Katara watched Aang and Zuko as they finished their training with their usual sparing match. But, as she, Toph, and Suki all knew, there was nothing usual about this it.

It was natural that in lessons, fighting was not to the scale of a full-out war. Yet, that was exactly how Aang was bending. He threw flame punches and kicks at Zuko, who remained on the defensive, only blocking Aang's vicious attacks. But his face was set, concentrating on surviving by using only half of his strength, while Aang used up all his energy and anger.

Finally, with Aang panting and Zuko only breathing a little harder than normal, the fight ended with the airbender pinned to the ground. "What is your problem?" Zuko snarled.

Aang roughly shoved his teacher away from him as he got to his feet. "Sokka told me some pretty interesting news." The venom in his voice made Zuko take a step back, but he kept the conversation silent. "There's a bounty out for the Blue Spirit in Mei Shan. Care to explain how you managed that one?"

Zuko steeled his tone and raised his chin. "I'm doing something that's important."

"Important?" Aang spat.

"Yeah, to the people of Mei Shan!" he hissed, thinking of Katara, who was watching them intently, along with Suki and Toph. "I'm helping them!"

"Helping them do what? Catch you and throw you in the guard house?" Zuko looked away and Aang took a step forward, raising a finger to jab the older boy in the chest. "Yeah, I heard about that too. You got lucky, getting out however you did, but that won't happen next time. I don't know what you're doing, but it needs to stop. Now."

Zuko slapped his hand aside. "You don't understand."

Aang brought his hand back up and grabbed Zuko's injured forearm, making him wince slightly as pain shot up his arm. "And I don't care."

"I need one more night."

Aang searched his eyes, which Zuko had made just as hard, if not harder, than his student's. "Fine."

Zuko cried out in surprise, and Aang threw down his forearm, which the firebender then cradled to his chest, breathing through the unexpected pain as Aang walked away and Katara ran forward.

"What happened?" she exclaimed, as shocked as he was. He let her take his arm away from his chest. He hissed as the skin stung when it made contact with the air, and Katara gasped at the red handprint burn. She uncapped her water skin and let the water engulf her hands, holding it over his forearm. "I can't believe he did that."

The stinging eased and then subsided until the mark was fully gone. "I deserved it," he admitted ruefully. "I did something, and I can understand why he's angry."

"He's angry at me too," she said, bending the water back into the skin as she thought about the play and the feelings that she just didn't reciprocate, and the other feelings she had. Remembering, she stood up and began to walk away, wanting to be near Zuko but knowing that was not the best idea until she sorted things out.

"Hey!" Katara whirled around in response to his call. He held up his arm. "Thanks."

_Well look at that. A normal person_.

"You're welcome," she said back, the sudden deja vu giving her a strange feeling that didn't help her jumbled thoughts. She flopped back onto her seat, staring at the empty space in front of her, seeing those two faces - or rather, one face and one mask.

"Katara?" She looked up and into Suki's questioning and worried gray eyes. "Is he okay?" Katara nodded. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure." She groaned. She wanted to be sure; why couldn't she be sure? "I have...feelings...for two different guys."

Suki tried not to smile, but she didn't hide it well. "Can I guess?" she asked hopefully.

Katara laughed without humor. "All you want, but you'd never get it right."

Toph raised her hand nonchalantly. "I bet I could." Katara's head snapped to look at her, and she probably did know. That thought petrified her, but the blind earthbender said nothing else.

"All right," Suki said, pushing aside the guessing game. "It doesn't matter who they are. You just have to choose."

"Even if they had a lot in common," Toph whispered to her, out of Suki's earshot, placing heavy stress on the last few words. "Who do you feel the _sparks_ with?"

Again, Katara stared at the younger girl, who always seemed to know more than she let on.

Zuko. She would choose Zuko. After everything they'd been through together, they'd grown so much closer in a matter of only a few weeks. She felt those, those sparks. _Sparks_. Like Sparky, Toph's nickname for him.

But those sparks were also what she felt when she was with the Blue Spirit, and she had to go that night.

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**Yeah, yeah, I know it's another short one. At least it has Toph! Next one will be up soon, it's the second to last!**

**And please let me know what you think of Aang in this chapter. I attempted to justify his actions because he was really upset over Katara's rejection, and now Zuko's Blue Spirit act, but let me know if it's too far out of character for him, because I think it might be.**


	13. Night Six

**Happy holidays to all who celebrate! Consider this chapter my present to you!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, someone would have smacked Long Feng upside the head a long time ago. (Was I the only one seriously annoyed by that guy?)**

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Night Six

When Katara arrived at the mines the following night, the Blue Spirit was already there. He stood, tall and sturdy, his arms crossed, his biceps very noticeable. His feet were shoulder width apart, and there was a box by his right leg. Her pulse quickened and she paused before coming out of the trees, her eyes closed as she focused. She would _not_ be distracted tonight. They had a task to accomplish, after which she would never see him again.

"Ready?" he asked when she came to his side. He knelt and picked up two unlit torches from the box at his feet.

"I think -" She cut herself off as soon as she saw the rest of the box's contents. "Are those explosives?" Her voice was high-pitched, incredulous, the total opposite of the calm air the Painted Lady was supposed to have.

He chanced a quick glance at the box while he light the torches. "Yes. Why?"

"They're explosives!" She couldn't see his face, only the mask that was still looking at her. "Explosives!" she repeated. "As in dangerous and deadly!"

"I know what I'm doing," he assured her, walking past the barriers and into the entrance tunnel. She followed him inside. "It'll be a few contained explosions. Don't worry. Just take care of these." He pointed up, and Katara could easily see the remnants of what had been air shafts, now filled with dirt and mud and rocks. "I'll be in the back."

A few more thoughts on why he shouldn't go do what he was about to do occurred to her, but she said nothing else as he and the orange glow from his torch disappeared into the tunnels. Instead, she uncapped her skin and bended the water, forcing the dirt out of the air shafts.

She continued her work, looking up at the tunnel leading deeper into the mines after every vent she cleaned, waiting for his torch to light up the surrounding rocks, revealing his shadow, and then him. Eventually, she ran out of clogged passages, having opened them all. There was still no sign of the Blue Spirit.

She waited, but not for long. It had been almost fifteen minutes - there should have been an explosion by now; he should have been back by now. Katara usually prided herself on her patience, but this was not one of those times. She took off running through the passages, remembering from the map the turns she was supposed to take.

"Spir-" Her call was cut off by a series of loud snaps that cracked through the tunnels and echoed in her mind. Before the ringing in her ears had stopped, she saw him come barreling towards her.

"GO!" he shouted, desperately waving her on. She had to start from a standstill, so he grabbed her hand and pulled her, both of them stumbling slightly before regaining balance and picking up speed.

"What?" was all she could get out as they sprinted back to where she'd just come. She wondered where the explosions were just as a rumble filled the caverns. Katara knew the sound of an explosive, and it was something like that, but she'd never encountered one that was followed by a sonorous whooshing.

"Problem!" he cried, pulling her again, practically dragging her behind him but never once coming close to letting her go, despite her being slower. Finally, they reached the tunnels closer to the exit and he slowed to a stop, still holding onto her hand.

She wanted an answer, but was gasping too much to say anything; the air was getting hotter, thicker, harder to breath, and that whooshing was getting louder. "Oh, no," he said, his voice full of despair, and she braced herself for being yanked again. Her legs felt wobbly, like they would collapse underneath her at any moment, but she picked up her feet in rapid succession, especially after seeing the tunnel walls starting to glow orange behind them.

She kept her gaze focused on the small gap of night sky before them, but despite how they sprinted, it wasn't coming fast enough, not with the heat on their backs. Katara glanced behind her, immediately aware that she didn't have enough water to even pause the flames for a moment.

The Blue Spirit looked over his shoulder too, and Katara just barely noticed the way the he was letting go of her hand. She squeezed her fingers around his, unsure of his purpose. The entrance was right there - they were too close to stop.

He kept running, but there was something different about him that she couldn't shake, as if a veil had suddenly come between them, thin and clear, but still a divider.

She lifted her head, eyes once again on the navy blue sky they were quickly approaching. She almost let out a sigh of relief as she estimated the distance and counted the seconds.

_Ten...Nine..._

A boom echoed from behind them.

_Seven...Six_

A glance behind her showed orange reflecting off the walls.

_Three...Two..._

The heat at their backs was unbearable. But just as quickly as it seared her, it vanished. As the force propelled them forwards and out of the cave, Katara turned her head and saw the Blue Spirit, in mid-flight like she was. Fluid and graceful as always, he moved his hands and arms, and just with those actions, the flames pulled themselves away from her and engulfed him.

A firebender. Her jaw involuntarily went slack and her eyes widened.

And then her uncomfortable landing on the grass brought her attention to the present situation. In the split seconds of flight time, the Blue Spirit had repelled the flames, sending them back into the caves, letting them into the night, or making them dissipate around him. Not a single burn was on her body. But he landed next to her on the ground, the breath knocked out of him, bits of his black outfit singed. Off in the not-too-far distance, coming from the direction of Mei Shan, bells started to toll.

"Get up!" she pleaded, tugging his arm and pulling him to his feet. She supported him as they stumbled away from the caves and towards the trees. "What happened to the contained explosions? You said you knew what you were doing!" She was breathless from running, the heat, and the shock of seeing him firebend.

"There must have been natural gas in the caves, or something like that," he explained, his voice affected by the pain from the burns on his chest. She set him down, his head propped against the trunk of a tree. "The flames just caught." He shook his head to himself. "That was stupid, and sloppy," he grunted. "I thought we could make it out. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What are you apologizing for?" she asked as she uncapped her water skin.

"I put you in danger," he said, and a lead weight settled in his stomach as he admitted it to himself.

"You saved my life," she corrected him while she tended to his injuries. "So, thank you." Still, she couldn't help but look at him differently now. "Why didn't you tell me you're a firebender?" _He_ matched the Blue Spirit physically, and was the only firebender she knew against the Fire Nation - aside from Jeong Jeong, whom she seriously doubted was behind the mask. Still, she was in the Fire Nation, so she was bound to find someone else who had deserted the country. No - believing it was Zuko was entertaining a dream.

"Well, you didn't tell me you were a waterbender." He pointed feebly to her hands, encased with liquid. "Not that I'm not grateful," he added as she cooled his burning flesh. After, she helped him sit up. "Thank you," he whispered. His voice was low, but she could hear it clearly, and she realized that they were so close. That, even though he was a firebender, she wasn't afraid of him, and never had been. That this was probably the last time she was ever going to see him.

She leaned towards him, completely aware of what she was doing and how much she wanted to. She brought her hand up, steeling herself as her fingers hooked on the edge of his mask, just brushing his skin.

He felt her hand getting closer to his face, but was too busy looking into her eyes. And the closer in she leaned, the more he saw of them, and the less he saw of everything else. But when her fingertips lightly grazed his cheek, he was called back to the present with a start.

His hand moved with the agility of years of training with his swords, and she gasped when it made contact with hers; not roughly, just suddenly. "No," he said as he removed her fingers from the mask. "Please, don't."

She allowed him to bring her hand down, but he kept a gentle hold of it. He didn't pull back; he didn't want to. Mere inches separated them.

And then she began to move away, her hand sliding out of his as she settled back on her knees before standing up. Terrified he'd lost his opportunity, that he'd given her the wrong idea, he rolled to his feet. "Wait," he whispered, his voice hoarse with longing. He grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her back to him, lifting his mask just above his mouth with his other hand.

Her hands landed on his chest, and she felt his heart beating rapidly. There was practically no space between their lips, and she closed the infinitesimal gap, snaking her arms around his neck. His hood had fallen off, and she weaved her fingers into his soft, shaggy hair. His lips responded eagerly to hers, and that thrill rose up in her chest to a level she hadn't known existed. But then her nose uncomfortably brushed against the bottom of the mask that still covered the rest of his face. In her mind, she gave him features: dark, shaggy hair, a straight nose, golden eyes...and a scar. An ache wormed its way into her chest, and she imagined with more effort.

He put his arms around her, pulling her to him, ecstatic that she was kissing him like he was her. It mattered so much what the water tribe beauty thought of him, mattered like no one else's opinion ever could. So this was what it felt to be with her. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her closer to him until they could be no closer - and it still didn't seem close enough. Probably because his mask was still on his face. He resolved to tear it off and throw it to the ground, getting rid of the object obstructing the moment.

But he couldn't. It was the Blue Spirit she had fallen for, not him. It wasn't Zuko, the scarred prince. It was the danger and the uncertainty that accompanied the rogue vigilante. As soon as the mask was off, the act was over, the mystery solved. Slowly, grudgingly, he loosened his hold of her and his kisses lost their passion. He pulled away, breathless as she was but trying not to show it.

"What is it?" she asked.

He looked to the sky, seeing the moon that he'd begun to associate with her. "I have to go."

"Now?" she asked, desperate.

He grinned ruefully, but she didn't see it; he'd already put the mask back. "Yes."

"Wait!" she cried. He turned back to her, some feet away, feeling the tugging in his chest that wanted to bring him back to her. "Will I ever see you again?"

"You will," he replied. "One day, I promise."

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**So this was originally going to be the last chapter, but it has a mind of its own and it just didn't feel right, so I had some major editing to do. There will be one more chapter, an epilogue, but no promises as to when it will be up, what with this absolutely insane time of year. Again, happy holidays to anyone that celebrates!**

**Reviews are the best gifts of all! **


	14. Epilogue

**The end of the year, the end of this story. I just thought that was fitting. Thank you so much to everyone who read this - I appreciate every review, favorite, and follow ****(feel free to clog my inbox with them!) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, I would be the genius known as Bryke, so this would have aired on the show and would have been ten times better. I also do not own You've Got Mail, from where the inspiration for this story came.**

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Epilogue

Once she was sure that Azula's chains would hold the insane firebender, Katara raced to Zuko, her feet pounding almost as fast as her heart was. She gracelessly fell to the ground beside him, gently rolling him onto his back, and gasped.

The burn from the lightning bolt - the one he'd taken for her - was in the center of his chest, red and raw, claiming all the attention she could give. She silently begged him to stay with her, unable to get the words out, as if saying them aloud would make probable the possibility of him dying.

But he wasn't allowed to. She wouldn't let him, because it had been him the whole time, not the Blue Spirit, that she'd fallen for. Every intriguing feature about the Blue Spirit was something she could see in Zuko, and unlike her nighttime crusading partner, Zuko didn't wear a mask in front of her.

She was alive because he was here, on the ground, suffering inconceivable pain. As the water pooled over her hands, she saw him in her mind, taking the lightning bolt that was meant for her, then lying on the ground, his body racked by spasms of electricity. She briefly pictured a world without him, and choked on a sob as something contracted around her chest. But she didn't let that distract her; it only fueled her need for him to be painless. Her need to see him open his eyes and focus the gold irises on her. Her need for him to know how she felt.

Something else did manage to pull her attention, though. The water around her hands turned bright blue, and that glow illuminated the other injuries on rest of his exposed torso. Her eyes began to drift from one to the next, and her mouth parted into a stunned expression. These burns were smaller and older, and she'd seen them all before.

His body relaxed as her healing started to take effect. "Thank you, Katara." HIs voice was barely more than a whisper, but she heard it, even in her trance, and looked to him, her eyes wet with relief and wide with realization.

"It was you," she breathed. "You're the Blue Spirit." It was a statement, but he nodded anyway. Her shock turned to an unbelievable euphoria, until another thought occurred to her - but it didn't disappear entirely. "And you knew who I was?" Again, he nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

This time, he shrugged, but winced at the action. She helped him sit up. "I didn't want to disappoint you," he admitted.

"Disappoint me?" she repeated, confused as well as elated.

"When you found out it was me."

"You idiot," she laughed softly, her voice catching on the tears she knew were spilling onto her cheeks. He brought his thumb up to her face and wiped away the stream. She stayed his hand there with hers, leaning into his touch. "I wanted it to be you."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said, but a beam spread across his face, showing her all she needed to know he was feeling.

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

He had one hand on the ground behind him to keep him up while he moved the other from her cheek to the back of her neck, and gently touched his lips to hers once.

Finally, with no mask in her way, she didn't need to imagine his as the face - it was. She cupped his cheek in her palm, touching her fingers to the smooth, glossy skin of the scar. His reflexes told him to stop her. But unlike with everyone else, he pushed away the involuntary response. He remembered the cool touch of her hand back in Ba Sing Se, and all the times he'd wished he could relive that moment and do it over again. This was better.

"What is it?" he asked as her eyes roamed the burnt skin inquisitively. He wasn't sure what she meant when she replied, "It's perfect," but he didn't press the subject as she kissed him again. She was right: the roofs of the surrounding buildings burning; his sister, in chains, screaming; chaos on all sides still raging - none of it mattered. For those few moments, nothing else mattered.

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**~Zutara~**


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